


Assassinations and Secrets

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Human, Assassin Sam Winchester, Charlie Bradbury & Sam Winchester Friendship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Protective Gabriel, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-06 01:45:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19052746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Agent Six never knew a different life, he doesn't even remember his family. That is until he gets put on the case of a young man, Dean Winchester. When Agent Six finds out more than he was planning, how will he cope with the information?





	1. The Assassin

The Assassin stood in front of the desk, back straight, and looked at the painting on the wall. It was a nice one, a Monet, and Agent Six had time to wonder if it was the real-deal. His attention turned when the door to the side opened, his Boss walking in. Taking his seat behind the mahogany desk, the Boss, nicknamed Yellow-Eyes, studied him. Agent Six stood still, waiting for orders. He’d just got back off his last mission, off in Siberia chasing an American ex-convict who had partaken in some… extracurricular activities.

‘Agent Six, at ease.’ He relaxed slightly, watching the Boss settle back in the chair and adjust his tie. Agent Six had no reason to be in here, he couldn’t understand why the Boss had called from him. Usually, missions had a three-week rest after, and he’d only been back two days. Although he was good at his job, Yellow-Eyes sometimes called him the best, he didn’t exactly enjoy mission after mission. It just wasn’t liberating, and taking orders blindly seemed wrong, deep down.

Agent Six had been working out in the field for four years. Before that, eight years of training. He wasn’t sure what happened before then, he was aware that he was twelve when the Academy of Shadows took him in, but he didn’t remember it. Six found it slightly odd, not remembering anything, but he reminded himself that was the job of the medical facilities at the Academy. He didn’t remember where he came from, who he was before this. In a way, it was a good thing. He tried not to wonder who he might have been, if he had parents, siblings, grandparents. Instead, Six’s attention focused on his job.

The Boss took the file out, the CLASSIFIED stamp across the top making Six smile slightly. It wasn’t funny, he told himself, but it was relatively pointless stamping the files considering all of them were confidential. When you were a hired hitman, what wasn’t private? Yellow-Eyes worked for the International Government Panel, although it was a separate organisation, so the World Leaders didn’t know about the highly-trained Assassins. All they knew was that when someone, anyone, stepped out of line, Yellow-Eyes could send someone, and the person would disappear.

It was beneficial for all countries. Six had no loyalty to one specific nation, the only loyalty he felt was to the Academy. Yellow-Eyes, who was called Azazel amongst the higher-ranking Assassins, had trained him. Not personally, not until he showed promise. If Six thought hard enough, he could remember his training from a young age. Visits to the laboratory downstairs, serums that made his skin writhe and burn, made his body ache for days. Electrocution, to stimulate parts of the brain that allowed him to become better.

Six stood silently, the leather outfit hugging his form. He liked it, leather saved him from quite a few injuries. A selection of weapons hidden in it: knives, trackers, poison, a small gun embedded into the sole of his boot, the list went on. The least favourite part of his uniform was the headpiece. He rarely wore it, but it was supposed to stop his brown hair covering his face. It was quite long, but after the last Agent had tried to jokingly cut it, and got a punch that left him in the infirmary, it was decided that Six could decide for himself. His long hair covered the electrocution marks on his head, which he was thankful for. They made his stomach stir.

Azazel stood, walking across to the weapons compartment. Only the top ten Agents got to use specialised equipment, and Six made the cut. His eyes studied the case he was being given, looking over the poison bottles. An eyepiece, which was always useful. A phone, tablet and earpiece. The gun was nice, palm-print coded so that nobody else could use it. The first time he had seen specialised equipment, he had wanted to know more. How it was made, who did the creating. Azazel had told him that it wasn’t his job to ask questions.

Six liked questions. He liked reading, languages quickly became a forte of his, as did studying people. It made him good at his job, being able to read people successfully. Hacking was another thing that came naturally, although he didn’t actually have to do a lot, considering the technology that the Academy possessed. His eyes flicked to the last item in the Case, a set of keys. He always loved the vehicle choices, but bikes were by far his favourite. By the looks of it, he was in luck.

‘Your mission is a simple one, Agent Six. The equipment needed is all here.’ Six took inventory of each item, before the case was shut and the locks flipped. Yellow-eyes rarely gave out this much equipment, probably meaning it would be a longer case. Six wanted to argue that he should have holiday time, but that wouldn’t go down well.

‘Other guns and knives will not be needed. This mission isn’t an assassination.’ They happened from time to time. Six was sent on reconnaissance missions, but they usually ended with someone being shot, stabbed of poisoned. Sometimes, even more inventive methods. The Assassin turned to his Master, hazel eyes burning with questions, but he didn’t dare ask. Questions were not appreciated in the Academy. Azazel stood, shorter than Six’s 6ft4 frame, but no less powerful.

‘Everything you need is in the file. I expect you gone by morning.’ Six would spend the entire evening studying the file, scrutinizing every detail so that he knew what he was doing. Going in unprepared was a risk he didn’t take, no matter what the price. Azazel handed the file, which the Agent put on top of the case. He turned back to Azazel, bowed his head. Yellow-Eyes looked pleased, placed a hand briefly on his arm. It was the smallest of contacts, considering affection was banned in the Academy. Of course, it was allowed to get information on missions. Six preferred knives. Somehow, he figured that sex, in its simplest form, should be for someone that was loved by the person. A weird thought, he didn’t mind other people doing it, but he couldn’t personally. It felt wrong.

‘Yes Sir.’ Six stated, and Azazel’s smile grew. It wasn’t a friendly smile. Make no mistake, although Azazel was the Leader of the Academy, he made it perfectly clear that they were expendable. He did not care about them, they were tools for a job. Six, therefore, did not bother getting attached to people in the Academy of Shadows. It was just heartbreak, considering that they lost one Assassin a week, on average. Spread out across the globe, some survived for a long period, some managed a day. The field was very different to the training rooms.

‘Remember, _abscondere in obumbratio’_ Six nodded, the familiar ‘hide in the shadows’ motto making him smile. It was utterly ridiculous, hiding in shadows was not how Assassins worked. They hid full stop. No tracks, nothing to follow back.

He picked up the case and the file, heading out of the office. The walk back to his room was quick, placing the case down and looking to his file. Opening it carefully, his eyes focused on the opening statement.

**Observe Dean Winchester**


	2. Protegee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six does his job

There were six main parts to Dean Winchesters routine. Six had watched him for two weeks, sneaking around Lawrence, Kansas, silently. It was more complicated than he had first thought, there were a lot of connections. In advance, Six didn’t really understand why he was assigned to the man. There wasn’t anything that seemed to be illegal, except jaywalking. Azazel must be bored of him, testing him?

Dean Winchester was a mechanic. He worked with a man called Bobby Singer, who was married to Ellen Harvelle. The woman had a daughter from a prior marriage, Joanne Beth Harvelle. Dean lived with his boyfriend, Castiel Novak, and his best friends, Gabriel Novak and Charlie Bradbury. There were more issues. The mechanic was friends with the Sheriff, Jody Mills. Then, there was the lawyer, Crowley MacLeod. Dean had a selection of friends, Benjamin Lafitte and Garth Fitzgerald.

The first part of his life was his work. That was simple enough, he worked Monday-Friday, 10-4. Ish, depending on what came in. Six could observe him easily, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Normal parts, bought from reputable traders. His work was good, quick and efficient. He was helpful to customers. Always had a smile. Didn’t drink in the mornings before work, didn’t get in fights with people that he worked for. Bobby Singer was the same. Nothing unusual with work.

The second part, the morning routine. Simple enough, Dean would wake around 8am. A shower would ensue, followed with a breakfast. Two mugs of coffee, on average, over the past two weeks per morning. Six noted that Castiel often joined him for this breakfast. The other Novak and Miss Bradbury had different shifts entirely. There was nothing suspicious in the morning routine, very few phone calls, nothing that shouted for an Assassin.

The third part, the evenings. After work, Dean Winchester would drive home. He had a liking for his car, a Chevrolet Impala, 67’. Something in him recognised the car, or at least liked the model. It was quite a pretty car. He supposed. Dean Winchester would shower once he returned, often he would cook. The evening would be spent with the three of them. Average bedtime was around 11pm. Bedroom activities, well, he didn’t need to note them. Not for this case.

The fourth part, social activities and family life. The weekend days seemed to be filled with recreational activities. Nothing illegal. Nothing warranting attention. Family meals, meeting at the bar with friends, drinks shared. A date last Friday evening with Castiel Novak. Meeting the Sheriff for lunch. Nothing that would mean Sam would have to watch him.

The fifth part was the most confusing. His past life. Dean Winchester was the son of John Winchester, deceased. He had a younger brother by four years, Sam Winchester, missing. The two of them were in a road collision, the father was pronounced dead at the scene. The boy was never recovered. He went missing when he was twelve. Mother was Mary Winchester, formerly Campbell. Also deceased. John Winchester was an interesting case, he had connections to a man called Asmodeus, or at least that was the name given. Six had managed to pull records of a conversation between them, obtained by a wedding video of Ellen and Bobby.

Asmodeus was a former kill of Six, so he was intrigued to see him showing up. This was perhaps the only reason Six got the case, he thought. The rest didn’t make a lot of sense. He was tracking a man that appeared to live a mundane life. Sure enough, it hurt Six slightly, seeing the man. Perhaps it was how normal the life was. Six wondered if he could have a life like that.

Anyway, Six hadn’t been recalled, or sent further information, so he was watching the house. He had noticed something suspicious, the same black sedan passing the house thirteen times over the past 14 days. Some people wouldn’t think that was an issue, but Sam hadn’t picked up on a time pattern. It wasn’t like a work shift. It was why he was keeping a closer eye. Tonight, once he knew Dean Winchester was in his home, he decided on going to the local pub, the Roadhouse.

Ordering a scotch, he settled on one of the barstools. He looked to his phone, then pulled up the surveillance camera he had monitoring the Winchester. Nothing out of the ordinary. The bartender, Ash, slid across the drink. He paid, gripped the glass and downed it. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he decided to be productive, researching more of the fifth part of his life. As he stood to leave, he walked towards the door, brushing shoulders with a woman walking in.

‘Sorry, Ma’am.’ He excused, not really focusing on the pixie haircut woman, even though her eyes widened slightly.

‘My fault, bustling to get a drink. I haven’t seen you round here?’ She ended it as a question, and now that Sam focused, he realised it was the Sheriff. Jody Mills stared at him, and Six felt slightly ridiculous. He wasn’t supposed to meet any of the people in person, especially not a cop. This would be hard. If the order for assassination came, he’d have to be extra careful to avoid leaving any evidence.

‘Just passing through.’ He stated back, watching the Sheriff closely.

‘Well, I’m Jody Mills. Sheriff of this place.’ Six felt a headache coming on, excused himself as he rubbed his temple, pushing open the door and heading out into the night. He made it to his motel room, slumped against the wall, pulling out Advil.

_‘And who might you be?’ The woman asked, bending down. Someone stepped forwards, a slightly older boy, who smiled charmingly._

_‘Don’t mind him, Ma’am. He gets nervous.’ The woman with the hair to her shoulders laughed, standing up straight._

_‘Well, I’m the Sheriff of this place…’_

Her lips moved, but he didn’t hear the rest. Once the image had blurred, and Six was back to seeing the motel wall, he blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. It was like a memory, apart from the fact he didn’t get those. He never had. He didn’t have a life before the Academy, had probably been some abandoned orphan. Whatever that was, it was his mind trying to piece something together that didn’t exist.

The Assassin crossed the room, unlocked the weapons case, looking down. Nothing out of place, nothing out of the ordinary. He took out his med kit, took a sample of blood from his arm and checked it for any hallucinogens or traces of things that could cause imagery. Nothing. Apart from a small trace of alcohol, his blood was clear. That didn’t help his quest to find out what he had seen, and the Agent walked to the case file, opening it up. This didn’t seem like an ordinary case.

When he researched Jody Mills, he was surprised to find the photo of her, with hair that reached her shoulders. His eyes widened, recognising the woman in his mind as the same on the screen. Was this a test? Had Azazel tracked down Jody Mills as someone that used to know who Six was? The Assassin slumped onto the bed, figuring it was a test. Azazel was seeing if his memories would come back. And something had. Which meant Six needed to stop getting so involved on the Case, he needed to draw back. Needed to think like an Assassin, not like a mundane. He was Six, an Agent for the Academy of Shadows, a protégée of Azazel.


	3. Mission gone wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six's new order gives him conflicting feelings

Six had received an order. A bloody odd order. The Assassin read it three times, getting more and more confused. It had come directly from Azazel, so there was no chance it was a mistake. It didn’t make it any easier to understand, the order made no sense. The first rule of being an Assassin, stay out of sight.

**Speak to Dean Winchester**

About what? Did Azazel even know if he did? A further message had followed, saying he could return once that had been done. So, Six had waited an appropriate amount of time, then packed his stuff away. Weapons stored, he walked to the bike. By stripping the weapons down, they fitted nicely. Six packed all his stuff away, checked out of the motel, then returned to his bike. Only to find a group of people by it.

He recognised the Sheriff first. Her police cruiser was by the side, and Six hoped this was a friendly visit. It would be less awful. Beside her stood Bobby Singer, his wife, and their daughter. They turned to look at him as Six walked across, and he straightened himself. Whatever they were here for, he could sort this out. So, he wasn’t great at talking to people. That didn’t matter now, he was an Assassin. They had nothing to suspect.

‘Sheriff Mills. I didn’t think I’d see you again.’ He remarked, trying not to look too long at the woman. He wondered if Azazel was watching, waiting to see if he would react. Bobby Singer was just staring at him, staring at him like he knew something that Six didn’t. Suddenly, the Assassin felt worried.

‘Do you have a name, stranger?’ She asked with a friendly tone, even though her eyes were studying him. For this mission, Six hadn’t been given a cover story. But, he had been an Assassin long enough to have cover stories under his belt.

‘Aidan. Aidan Walker.’ He offered, but kept his hand to himself. The hands were rough, use of a gun often did that. He kept still, and the Sheriff nodded.

‘How old are you?’ She asked, and he faltered momentarily.

‘Is this an interrogation, Sheriff? Should I get a lawyer?’ He mocked slightly, itching to have a weapon. His eyes moved to Joanne momentarily, and he stared at the girl. Her bright blue eyes stared back, and Six found himself wondering if he’d seen them before. He then put it down to being a killer, lots of eyes.

‘You look like someone that went missing a while ago.’ Damn. That wasn’t good. Really wasn’t good. What if this was them? People that knew him? Then Six thought logically, remembered that it wasn’t possible. That he was an Assassin, so even if this as his old life, it wasn’t anymore. He couldn’t have it.

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ He remarked plainly, before a car door opened. His eyes flicked to Dean Winchester, who was striding across the car lot. Behind him, two Novaks that he had studied, and Miss Bradbury. Six looked for potential exits, then decided he would get out of here the old fashioned way.

‘Sam?’ Six stopped, turning his head to the Winchester. The name didn’t ring any bells, but it left a sour feeling in his stomach.

‘My name’s Aidan.’ He stated, feeling outnumbered. His glance turned to the same black sedan, slowing slightly, then speeding up. He watched it as it drove out of view.

‘You… sorry. You look like someone I knew.’ Dean stated, and Six could see the concern. He’d done his job, spoken to Dean Winchester, and now he could leave. He excused himself, walking through the gathered crowd to his bike.

‘Can I see your hand?’ Dean blurted, and Six turned back to him. Green, emerald eyes stared at him. He acknowledged the question, saw Dean looking to his right hand. He hesitantly lifted it, stripped the glove off, and offered it. Dean didn’t touch, eyes focusing on a scar between his middle and forefinger. His eyes widened, and he looked back up.

‘How did you get the scar?’ He shakily asked, and Six stared down at it. He didn’t remember the story, had never really noted it before now. He froze, trying to think of a suitable lie as he put his glove back on.

‘Cut it on a pair of pliers.’ He lied smoothly, or less smoothly, and mounted the bike. He sped away sharply, enough so that rubber burned, not wanting to ever see any of them again.

**

‘I’m disappointed, Six.’ Azazel stated, and the Agent rose his head. He was tied down to the bed, the electro-pads against the side of his head. A rubber mouth guard was put in place, and Six regretted ever telling his Boss that he thought he knew them. The nurses walked around, wiring him up.

‘Don’t completely wipe him. Just this mission.’ Azazel stated, then left the room. Six looked after him, really regretted his life. Then, without giving him a chance to prepare, the electric was turned on. His body arched up, and he cried out, desperately trying to suck air into his lungs. As his body blacked out, the last thing Six remembered was a pair of emerald eyes staring at him.

**

When Six woke, he was back in his bed. His head hurt, but he wasn’t a fool. Some things weren’t strong enough to break his memories. He stood, leaning down to his gear, and fished out the receipt. When he used to have his memory wiped, he would write things to trigger memories. This time, as the Assassin sat in his room, he pinned the note to the wall. Taking a selection of knives, he went to his bed, sitting down on the edge.

He threw them, hitting the word perfectly, splitting open the paper. Six watched the word become unrecognisable, pushing his memory to remember things he was supposed to forget. He had many things to do. The first was to gain the favour of Azazel. The second was to sneak into the office, and find his file. He needed to know who he was, and why he had been sent to study Dean Winchester. The third was to get as far away from this place as he could, covering his tracks if he had to. Six threw the last knife, watched it imbed in the wall and grinned.

Standing up, he picked up the leather outfit. He slipped the knives into their holders, pocketed his gun, and turned to the shredded receipt on the wall. It was time to hunt, and stepping out into the corridor, the word floated around in his mind.

**Emerald.**


	4. Case

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six regains favour with Azazel

 ‘The name.’ The Assassin asked, and when the man just sobbed, blood dribbling from his mouth, Six sighed. His knife sliced through skin, Oswald Murphy screaming out. He was an international terrorist, and had organised an attack on the Indian Government. So, Six had been sent to find him, capture and obtain the information of who he worked for. Despite being so very dangerous, Oswald had made quite a few mistakes, and it made Six’s job easier.

For example, the women and children chained up in the room. The woman, a girlfriend of sorts, had not known he was working for a terrorist organisation. Six could tell, her face morphing into disgust, shouting about how her parents had died in terrorist attacks. Six, feeling merciful, had blindfolded all the children. The three of them did not need to see this.

‘Please… I just want to live my life.’ Six ignored pleaded, stabbing a blade through his hand. The man screamed, and the Assassin wondered if he would get a chance to wash his leather uniform. It was bloody and gross, the mask itched his face, and Oswald Murphy was not being helpful. He hated it when they weren’t helpful.

‘They didn’t give me a name.’ He blurted as the Assassin pressed a knife to the groin, pausing momentarily and waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, he put pressure with the knife. The man flinched, his eyes widening, and Six could see the realisation. Good, Oswald was beginning to understand. That made it simpler.

‘They called themselves the Dark League. I don’t know anything else.’ Six froze, he knew those people. The Academy knew those people, very dangerous, and not to be approached. They were being attacked worldwide by Government branches, like MI5, the FBI, not Assassins. Six now was slightly annoyed. His computer beeped, and he walked across to it. The computers in the household had been wiped and he now had the number he needed. With access to the first mainframe, he could see that this ran a lot wider than he could handle by himself.

‘Thankyou for your cooperation.’ Six offered, before he cut the man’s throat. The woman sobbed, and Six pulled the needle from the case. Her eyes widened, and she started shuffling backwards.

‘The serum will remove your memories of the past twenty-four hours. You won’t remember.’ He stepped forward, slipped the needle into the side of the neck. The same was done for the three children, and he carried the unconscious people, wrapped in blankets, to the outside of the house. Then, he removed the blankets, arranged the humans so it looked like they had passed out fleeing from the house.

The Assassin spent half an hour shaping the house so it looked like a botched suicide. The knife was replaced by a kitchen one, four bottles of alcohol had been emptied during the interrogation, because Six was prepared. The pen and paper by his side, like he had planned on writing a note. Now, Six just needed to destroy the body enough that nobody would see that it had been damaged. That was simple enough, he had been careful to not cause any damage to bones. The fire was aided by the alcohol, then hit the gas tanks in the kitchen.

Six watched from a distance, a slight smile on his face as he watched the house crumple. The Assassin had removed the clip that disabled the alarm, in case the police investigated that. Then, once he was done, he returned to his bike. Putting the case away, Six sped off before the investigation could begin.

**

‘Exemplary work, Six.’ Azazel stated as he took the case back. Six was just pleased that he had three weeks of holiday. He needed those. Azazel continued to walk around the office, and Six continued to watch the files in the corner. Yellow-Eyes had been pleased with the information, had immediately signed Six off for three weeks holiday. This was all good news, as was the fact that Azazel hadn’t questioned why he let the woman and children go. He didn’t usually like that.

When Six had first been sent out in the field, he had been given a partner. Agent twenty-seven, a woman that had been at the Academy for three years on field missions. She didn’t like the name Twenty-Seven, so she had told Six her original name. Unlike everyone else in the Academy, Six was the only one who didn’t remember who he had been before. Aurora, Ro, as she preferred, had been a woman serving in the British Army, before she lost her platoon. Six could understand. She had taught him that saving the family was sometimes a better thing, it meant that they were doing good, saving those who didn’t deserve death just by association. Since she died two years ago, Six had kept to that motto.

‘Going anywhere nice?’ Azazel inquired, returning the equipment. Six stood still, not showing any hesitation as he answered,

‘I heard Sydney is nice at this time of year.’ Six commented, and Azazel hummed an agreement. Then, an Agent walked in. Azazel listened to the conversation, explaining that Six should wait for him. Yellow-Eyes walked out of the room quickly, and Six didn’t hesitate. The first thing was to disable the alarms that he had spent hours studying, then to ensure he separated his phone from the mainstream service. The filing cabinet was what he went for, putting gloves on and lowering his head, listening as he picked the lock. Then, inside was the second challenge. It was coded, but Six was a hacker, so it was easy enough to deal with.

He thumbed through the files, until he found the word SIX, and took it out. Working quickly, he flicked through, taking photos of each page. Returned the folder, reset the code, then shut the filing cabinet. Once that was done, he returned to the computer, quickly hacked into the cameras and set them on loop, so Six hadn’t moved. Once he knew that it was up to a standard that Azazel would not be able to find out what he had done, he pocketed the phone, stood back to attention by the door.

Two minutes and twelve seconds later, Azazel walked back in. He looked slightly stressed, frown-lines across his head. Six watched him slump into his chair, looking up.

‘I wish all Agents were like you, Six. Have a good holiday.’ Six bowed his head, before he left the office. Now he just had to work out what he was going to do.


	5. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six helps a friend

Six was glad he listened to his heart. Upon finding out that the twelve-year-old that went missing, Sam Winchester, was him, he had gone to stalk the town of Lawrence. It was dangerous, but he had wanted to see the people that used to be his family. Evidently, they hadn’t forgotten him. Then again, they hadn’t been taken by an Academy of Assassins. Six had found that amusing, and had taken to watching the homes of the Singer/Harvelles, Jody Mills, and the Novak/Winchester/Bradbury.

That was lucky, because if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have seen the incident. Miss Bradbury left her work, Crowley MacLeod’s lawyers office, and had walked towards the pavement. Six had watched the Sedan pull up, two men come out and grab the young woman. Six hadn’t intervened, not yet, as he watched the woman in a neat blue dress be snatched. Something in him got angry, got really angry when she tried to scream.

Six had followed the van. It had been a long drive, but eventually, they had stopped. Leaving his bike close, ready for the escape, Six had scouted the building. It was an old grain store, from what he could tell. That was useful, because it had quite a few entrances. He wasn’t yet sure why they had taken Charlie. It was all rather complicated, to do with Asmodeus, who had a connection to the Dark League. That, by association, meant that John Winchester, and hence Dean, were connected. But they didn’t have connections to the Dark League, which led the Assassin to think that Asmodeus had a secret that the Dark League were worried he had told John Winchester, and therefore his son.

When Six moved in, he did it silently. Taking down guards was pretty easy, silent cuts to the neck, muffled the shouts. He moved closer, trying to listen to what they were asking Miss Bradbury.

‘I need to know what he told you! What does Dean Winchester know?’ Six listened to the words, then listened to the slap the followed. The girl cried out, and Six readied his knife. Moving around the corner, he stabbed it straight through the neck. Miss Bradbury went still, then her eyes widened as the body dropped, and Six removed the mask.

‘Miss Bradbury, my name is Agent Six. I’m here to get you out.’ He assured, moving to the ties that kept her down. She was shaking slightly, a large bruise under her eye, blood dribbling from a split lip. Once he’d untied her, he looked back to the door. Going to the Guard, he took the gun off of him, checked it had bullets, then returned. He placed it into her hands, searching her eyes for understanding.

‘If anyone comes towards you, press this button,’ He gestured to the safety, ‘Then pull the trigger. Try to only do it once, unless you miss.’ He added the last bit on, watched as she wrapped her fingers around.

‘Are you him?’ She blurted, and Six wished he had the answer she wanted. Looking to the door to make sure they were safe, he looked back to the red-head.

‘My file tells me I am, but I can’t remember.’ He honestly answered, and Charlie’s eyes widened. Miss Bradbury, he reminded himself. He gestured for her to follow, helping her over the dead body and down corridors. When he reached the path to his bike, he was slightly concerned by the five guards.

‘When I go out there, you run behind the cannister and down the path. There’s a bike down there, wait for me.’ Miss Bradbury didn’t argue, although he did look down and find her wearing heels. That wouldn’t help, but he could manage. He went to move when a hand grabbed his arm, Miss Bradbury staring up at him.

‘Wait, Sam, please be safe.’ The name made his stomach sour, but he nodded.

‘It’s Six now, but I will be. Now go.’

He did as she asked, hence the fact his leather trousers were covered in blood that wasn’t his. The five guards had gone down, and he had made his way to the bike quickly. Miss Bradbury looked awful, so he unzipped his leather jacket, wrapped it around her shoulders. He then took the heels off, before climbing onto the bike and pulling her behind him.

‘Hold on. I’ll get us away from here.’ She didn’t argue, arms wrapping around his waist as they drove away. Six made sure they were far enough away that they wouldn’t be followed before he pulled off the road, stopping the bike and turning back.

‘Are you hurt anywhere else?’ He inquired, studying the woman. She pointed to her lip, then to just below her last rib, and Six nodded. He helped the woman off the bike, reached for the first aid kit.

‘How do you not remember?’ She asked as he started cleaning the cut lip.

‘I work for a global organisation that tracks down the worst people in society. My memory was wiped when I first joined, and was wiped after I last saw you.’ He admitted, cleaning the cut steadily. It wasn’t too bad, but it would be sore for a couple of days. Miss Bradbury looked surprised, eyes widening.

‘You kill people for a living?’ Six nodded, pressing his fingers lightly to her jawline to check it wasn’t broken. Happy with what he found, he gestured to her hip.

‘I’ll need to see that.’ The woman chuckled, rolled up the dress and rested it above her hip. Six looked mildly surprised, and Charlie laughed louder.

‘You really don’t remember. I’m very much gay, and you very much used to be my wingman.’ He didn’t acknowledge that, admiring the growing bruise. He reached for bandages, beginning to wrap the bruised area. When she winced, he apologised, slowing his movements.

‘How do you know you’re him?’

‘I stole the file. My file. I don’t remember any of you, even though I should.’ He finished the bandage, lowering her dress and re-zipping the jacket. He then checked her feet, noted the skin rubbed raw, and started putting a salve on them. She sat on the edge of the bike, watching him curiously.

‘Do you remember anything?’ Six wrapped her feet, eyes flicking up to meet hers.

‘Not really. A vague memory of the Sheriff.’ Charlie looked pleased at that, and he felt bad. He couldn’t be what she wanted, he wasn’t the friend she had when they were little.

‘All done, Miss Bradbury. I need to call my boss, and then I’ll get you home.’ He promised, although he wasn’t looking forward to going to Lawrence. But, he owed it to the girl. It was hardly her fault.

‘Won’t he be mad, that you know?’ Six thought back to the electro-pads, thought to the feeling of it coursing through his veins. He shuddered slightly, lifting her and setting her down on the bike so she could relax.

‘I’ll make something up.’

**

Azazel was heading to the sight, and so Six made sure to get going. Charlie wrapped her arms back around, and they raced back towards Lawrence. When they were ten minutes away, he allowed Charlie to call Dean. Apparently, they were extremely worried. She assured them that she would be back soon, and that she would explain everything. Six didn’t comment, took his phone back and continued to drive.

‘Can I have your number?’ She asked, and Six paused. Her hand reached back for the phone tucked in his trouser pocket, and he didn’t stop her. The woman didn’t have a phone on her, considering all she had was a jacket, a gun, and a pair of strappy heels. He offered a pen from the compartment of the bike, and she wrote the number on her hand. He didn’t stop her.

‘Only in emergencies.’ He warned, knowing already that he wouldn’t stick to that. She seemed to know it as well, because she laughed slightly. When they pulled up, Six was slightly worried to find Sheriff Mills’ and Bobby Singer’s cars. The door to the house opened, and the Assassin was glad it was night-time. Less people to worry about.

He climbed off the bike, wishing he had a helmet so he could hide, before he lifted the red-head off the bike. She winced as her feet landed, but ran across to Dean, who scooped her up. Six stood still, scanning the area for any threats, while ensuring Miss Bradbury was safe.

‘I’m okay, I promise. I’ll explain everything once we get inside.’ That meant she would explain him as well, he thought.

‘Six? Thank you.’ The girl was staring at him, so he nodded his head.

‘No problem, Miss Bradbury.’ She smiled slightly, then shrugged into the jacket.

‘I’m keeping this.’ She stated, tracing the edges of the leather. He looked amused, smiling back at the woman. A vague memory formed, of her stealing one of his star-wars shirts. His eyes widened, and he had the desire to ask, but he didn’t.

‘Stay safe.’ Was all he said, turning back to the bike.

‘What about this?’ She held the gun in her hand, which made several people jump back. Six moved forwards, unclipped the gun, but handed it back. Her eyes moved to his, understanding that he wanted to keep her safe. He couldn’t really admit to feelings aloud, but he knew that she was important to him. That was the end of that conversation, so he moved back to the bike, sliding his leg over.

‘Hey Six?’ He looked back, finding Miss Bradbury with tears in her eyes. He felt slightly bad, he really did want to remember.

‘Yes?’ He asked, and she smiled slightly.

‘Sam Winchester used to have nightmares about fire.’ She said, and Six’s eyes widened. He held still for a moment, remembering the nightmares of smoke and fire and a woman crying. He gave a brief nod, before he raced away.


	6. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six finally gets what he wants

Azazel was not pleased. Six didn’t expect him to be, if he was honest. It didn’t make it any less terrifying, as he walked through the grain house.

‘You remember them.’ It wasn’t a question, Azazel was angry. He was angry that the memory-wiping wasn’t working, and that Six hadn’t told him about Charlie Bradbury.

‘No, I don’t. I know I should.’ He argued back, and the Leader of the Academy studied him. He didn’t argue back, looking at the dead bodies. Other Agents walked around, collecting data and whispering to each other about Agent Six. He didn’t really care, just stood in the mixture of blood and dirt, waiting for the orders from Azazel.

‘They’re after the Winchester boy. I think it is time to move them to a safe house.’ He pondered aloud, and Six didn’t speak up. Safe Houses were okay, but it meant that Azazel knew what they wanted. It also meant that he would put an Assassin in the Safe House, tasked with protecting Dean. He almost hoped it was him, he quite liked Charlie.

‘Six, go to the Willow Safe House. Have it scanned, then set up two Assassins in the town to protect it. You may then return to the Academy. I will call you when I need you.’

**

Six hadn’t been called. Two weeks had passed, and he was restless. Azazel hadn’t returned, and Agents kept coming in with stories about how he was personally sitting in the Safe House with them. He looked down to his phone, surprised to see it vibrating, and then remembered he had given Charlie his number. Ignoring the way his heart sped up slightly, he flipped the phone open.

‘Hello?’ He inquired, praying it was her. The voice that answered was too masculine to be her, however.

‘Agent Six, I do not recall allowing you to give your number out to civilians.’ Azazel stated, but it was a light sound. Six didn’t speak, waiting for him to do so. He could hear background noise, potentially his old family.

‘Six, come to the safe House.’ Azazel hung up before he could ask, and the Agent almost jumped for joy. Finally, he thought, a chance to get out of the Academy. He packed his stuff quickly, went to his bike that was parked in the Garage.

**

Azazel had picked a nice safe house. Willow was a house that had quite a few bedrooms, and was located in a very defensible position. The Assassin walked into the kitchen, looking to the many seated people, including Charlie. She shot him a grin, and he almost returned it, before his eyes slid across to Azazel. He watched him closely, like he was waiting for Six to mess up.

‘Agent Six, the family are aware of the Academy of Shadows, and how the Global governments use them. Your mission, Six, is to protect all of them. I will return to the Academy, searching for the Dark League is the main priority. Dean Winchester does not know anything about Asmodeus, but others do not know this.’ Six processed the words, then vaguely remembered Azazel asking him if he knew something. He focused on the memory, before the headache it caused made it too much. His Boss stood up, pulling out a pot-pill of Advil.

‘You’ll need these. Any time the headache gets to bad, take them. If it persists, I’ll have to re-wipe your memory.’ Six took the tablets, watched his Boss carefully, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to be here, if the headaches got bad, they’d send him back to the lab. He did not want to end up there.

‘Do you understand, Agent Six?’ This was a stupid mission. Azazel was doing it because he knew that Six couldn’t stop the memories, knew that he’d get attached.

‘Yes Sir.’ He replied smoothly, and Azazel nodded. He then turned, walking to the door like this was a normal occurrence. As soon as the door was shut, and Azazel was gone, Charlie bounced out of the seat.

‘Do you like Star Wars? I have all the movies.’ She admitted, and Six laughed slightly.

‘You know I like Star Wars, Charlie.’ Her smile grew, and Six settled, this couldn’t be too hard, he just had to look after the family.

**

He was cooking dinner the next evening, chopping up peppers when Bobby Singer walked into the room.

‘Evening, son.’ Six smiled back at him, they were all being nice. All of them called him Six, even Dean, although he could tell they were only doing this because they thought he could be something he wasn’t. They didn’t ask about his life prior to this, didn’t ask about his job.

‘Good evening.’ Sam replied, continuing to prepare the dinner. He felt like the least he could do was cook, considering their entire lives had been turned upside down. Bobby settled into the kitchen chair, joined quickly by Ellen. Jody was next into the room, the elder-adults chatting with him about food, about how he learnt to cook. Once he had finished making the spaghetti Bolognese, with the salad and garlic bread, the others appeared. The two Novaks came first, then Dean racing to the chairs. Joanne was next, although she preferred the name Jo.

They sat down, tucking in, and Charlie walked in. She was wearing a star-wars shirt, one that he recognised, and before he could stop it, the words slipped from his mouth,

‘I had one like that.’ He then bit his lip pretty quickly, looking away from the grinning Charlie. His head started to ache, like it so often did when he tried to remember things. She walked across, grabbing a beer.

‘Yeah, I used to steal them all the time.’ She admitted, and Six wished he hadn’t started this conversation. The red-head sat down, looking at him as he reached for the tablets on the side. Twice the normal dosage swallowed, he grabbed a piece of garlic bread and headed towards the stairs.

‘Aren’t you hungry?’ Charlie inquired, the only one who felt comfortable openly questioning him. Six shook his head.

‘I’d prefer a shower.’ He admitted, and Charlie shouted after him.

‘Don’t use my shampoo, Sam!’

‘Yeah, yeah. I get it.’

It was only later, once he’d used Charlie’s shampoo to wash his hair, the he realised she had called him Sam, and he had responded. He blinked, resting his head against the tiles on the wall, water rushing over him. The lines were getting so blurry, his head was spinning, and he couldn’t even remember why he was fighting against this.

Then he remembered exactly what he was, what he had become. Six stood tall, tilted his face into the spray, and refused to acknowledge the memory of him and Charlie and Jo curled up on the sofa, watching some crappy rom-com film. Refused to remember the way the two of them had been good friends of his. Tried to forget how happy he had felt.

Six was an Assassin.


	7. Cocky, Agent Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six bonds with Gabriel, then spends some time with Charlie

Six walked into the living room at 3am, surprised to find Gabriel sitting on the couch. The Novak was curled up in a blanket, a bowl of popcorn on his lap, watching Die Hard. When he spotted Six, he patted the couch next to him. The Assassin hesitated, before sliding onto the couch next to the Novak. They watched John blow up some people, Gabriel turning his head.

‘Do you do that?’ He asked with a grin, and Six threw a piece of popcorn at him. The Novak looked insulted, before he looked at him again, this time waiting for the answer.

‘No.’ Six provided, and he giggled.

‘So, what do you do, Moose?’ It wasn’t the first nickname, although this was better than Sasquatch.

‘Kill bad guys. Without blowing them up.’ He added the last bit, and Gabriel nodded seriously. They relaxed into comfortable silence, Gabriel occasionally asking if how they used the weapons was accurate. Six found the entire thing amusing, settling to steal popcorn and throw it. By the end of the film, Six worked up the courage.

‘Why are you up this late? Or early.’ Gabriel looked across at him, and Six fought the urge to hide. He still wasn’t used to living with other people, was that an inappropriate question?

‘Couldn’t sleep. I don’t sleep well anywhere but my bed.’ He supplied, and Six rose an eyebrow. Gabriel sighed, turning slightly and drawing his knees up. Six relaxed his face, realising this was a story.

‘My Mom and Dad split when we were little, my Mom took my two older brothers away. Promised they’d come back for me and Cassie, but she didn’t show. My dad basically left us alone, and I had to look after Cas. Ever since, I really don’t sleep well when I’m not where I know. Keep thinking Cassie is going to leave as well.’ He admitted. Six could understand that, felt slightly sorry for the older brother. It must have been hard, raising Castiel. Six could barely look after himself.

‘I’m sorry.’ He stated, unsure of what else to say. Gabriel shrugged, kicked his legs up over Six’s lap. The Assassin didn’t move, even though he still wasn’t used to contact all the time.

‘Do you always work on your own? What’s the Academy like? What d’you remember?’ Three questions, all of them slightly complicated in answers. He figured, since Gabriel had told him about raising Castiel, he owed an answer.

‘For my first two years I had a partner. She was ex-military, taught me how to get around in the real world. She died on a solo hunt after we split.’ He explained, remembering Ro teaching him how to pick out the right people in a bar. He’d enjoyed her company, even though he wasn’t supposed to get attached.

‘Was it romantic?’ Gabriel inquired, and Six shook his head.

‘No. Not a lot of time for romance, being an Assassin.’ Six stated, and Gabriel chuckled.

‘The Academy was alright. It was just like a big school. I don’t remember anything before, the memory wiping is pretty advanced.’ Gabriel nodded along, wiggling slightly so he could get the blanket wrapped around him.

‘How does that work? The others were taking bets, we presumed some sort of serum.’ Six realised they didn’t know, he’d never actually told them. He shifted slightly, hand reaching into his hair and pulling it back slightly. Gabriel’s eyes flicked to the scar, evidently confused.

‘Electrocution to stimulate memory recalibration.’ He explained, and Gabriel’s face went blank. He moved forwards, fingers reaching slowly. Six held still as they traced the edges of the scar, brushing across his temples.

‘Why do you stay there?’ He asked, and Six moved back. Gabriel got the hint, returning to his edge of the couch.

‘I didn’t have anywhere else to go.’ He stated, and Gabriel noted how it was in the past tense. He excused himself away, returning to his room. Sleep was needed.

**

‘A little to the right.’ Six stated, and Charlie shifted her balance. They were in the yard, and Charlie was attempting to shoot an arrow at the target. She sighed, her hand shaking slightly as she twisted. Taking pity on her, he moved across, feet crunching on the slightly frozen grass. He placed a hand gently on her hip, shifting her body so that it was positioned correctly. A leg nudged between hers, and he was more than happy with the fact she was gay, because it made this less awkward. Once he’d shifted her correctly, he placed a hand over hers, pulled the bow back.

The arrow hit dead centre, and he loaded the second, pulled it back, then stepped away from Charlie. She released the arrow, and he smiled when it hit just off centre. She squealed happily, turning around and offering a high-five, which he hesitantly accepted. He knew the others would probably be watching from the safety of the kitchen, all of them had been surprised when he had accepted Charlie’s terms on learning to shoot a bow.

Something snapped, a twig perhaps, and Six noted it. He scanned the surroundings, eyes focusing on the bushes in the distance. He looked to Charlie, who had fired another arrow, then back to the tree line. If he was wrong, he’d look paranoid. If he was right, he might be leaving it too late. He focused again, let go of the surroundings and listened to the sounds other than Charlie. Another twig, and he focused on the breaking sound, trying to determine footstep pattern. Now pretty sure someone was in the bush, he turned to Charlie.

‘Go back to the house, straight to the kitchen. Everyone in, lock the doors.’ Charlie stared at him, then ran. He watched her go, then realised he didn’t have any weapons on him, apart from the bow. The quiver was empty, which was useful. Not.

‘Good morning, Six.’ The person stood, and Six cursed silently. He watched the man walk out, skinny yet tall, and kept ground.

‘Agent Twelve.’ Six greeted, watched as the man walked across to the target, pulling one of the arrows out.

‘Azazel’s been acting out. You wouldn’t know why?’ He asked, running a fingertip across the arrowhead. Six watched, estimating the time it would take to reach the bow. Not too long, but he would have a blind spot. Twelve was a good Agent.

‘No idea. Why are you here?’ He asked, studying the disbanded Agent. He had left the Academy after killing three people not on the list, and hadn’t been seen since. If he was stalking Azazel, they had issues. In fact, last time Six had checked, there had been orders to bring Twelve in.

‘Wondering who the people in the house are. And why they’re so special.’ Six tensed up, glanced back momentarily. The kitchen had bullet-proof windows, and he knew they would be watching. He turned back.

‘You’re not getting anything out of me.’ He stated, and Twelve pulled the other arrow out. With one in each hand, he turned, squaring up.

‘I didn’t think I would. I’ll just get it out of them.’ Six lunged for the bow, fingers gripping it and rolling back to avoid the arrow. Twelve was running at him, and Six used the bow to block the first hit. The sparring was fast, blurred movements as they fought. It was pretty terrifying, fighting with someone that was evidently a brilliant Agent. Six ducked the arrow, then lashed out for the legs with the bow.

He got punched, an arrow grazed his arm, and he gripped the Agent, threw him down and hit with the bow. It crunched against leg, and Six was quick to snatch the arrow, driving it through the Agents hand and into the ground. Twelve screamed, and Six stood quickly, rolling to his feet and pressing his foot lightly onto his windpipe.

He waited patiently, waited until he heard the familiar rumble of the car engine. Azazel looked less than impressed, striding across the yard. He was glad Charlie had the sense to call him. Six stood back, the Agent reaching across and pulling the arrow out of his hand. Twelve sat on the grass, Six collecting the arrows and bow, watching Azazel closely.

‘Agent Twelve. I never thought you’d be this stupid.’ Six was stepping away, looking to Thirty-nine and Twenty-four, who both stood close to the Boss. He gave them a nod, retreating back towards the house when he heard the gunshot. He flinched, turned to see the body of twelve on the floor, blood seeping into the ground.

‘Agent Six, clear this up.’ Azazel stated, gesturing to the two Agents who offered out lighter fuel. Six hesitated, but did walk back, gripping the stuff. He ignored Azazel, made light work of stripping non-flammable items, then poured the lighter fluid. When the body started to burn, he stepped back. Azazel had dismissed the two Agents that had stood by the Gate, which left them alone with the burning body.

‘You didn’t have any weapons on you.’ Azazel walked across, gripped his face and turned it so he was staring right into his eyes. The fingers were hard enough to bruise, but Six didn’t flinch away. Not yet, anyway.

‘I had the appropriate weapons for the conditions, Sir’ He argued, and Azazel tightened his grip. Six held still, before his face was released suddenly.

‘Don’t get cocky, Agent Six.’ Six turned, bowed his head. Azazel walked back towards the Gate, and Six turned to the body. Once he was sure Azazel was gone, he bowed his head to the body as well. Being an Assassin could turn the strongest people insane.


	8. Go Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's later than usual, bad day :( Big chapter to make up for it!

‘Go fish.’ Gabriel pouted, but did as told. He picked the card up, looked disappointed, and added it to his hand. Six sat opposite, cross-legged in the living room. Jo was sitting on the couch with Charlie, Dean slouched on the other one. The adults sat at the table, and Castiel was in the shower. It was relatively peaceful, until Charlie spoke up,

‘Do you want to watch a movie?’ The group, of course, agreed. Six didn’t think much about it, settling back onto the couch, Gabriel sitting on the floor between his legs. It didn’t bother him that much, the Novak was actually pretty funny. Plus, he didn’t know him before the Assassin-thing, so he didn’t need to worry about memories he couldn’t remember.

The film was boring. Something about a girl falling in love, a guy with a nice car, some people with guns. He didn’t really care that much, just sat there wondering if he could be bothered to make diner. Maybe a takeout was a good option, he hadn’t had takeout in a while.

‘Pizza for dinner?’ Dean asked, looking across to Six. From the looks on peoples’ faces, it was pretty obvious they agreed. Six did momentarily wonder if it was a good idea, before agreeing with the suggestion. Pizza was good. They wrote down orders, Bobby going to order in the kitchen. Six turned his attention back to the movie, just in time to see a car skid across a road, tires squealing as the driver tried to get hold. The car spun, crashed straight into a tree, the glass shattering and the airbags deploying.

Six really did think he was breathing. Then, apparently, he wasn’t. His head spun, Jo shouting at Charlie to get the meds. Six barely made it to the trashcan in time to empty his stomach, before his eyes started rolling and his body decided it was time to convulse.

**

_‘Sam, sit still.’ John scolded, but in a slightly fond voice. They were returning home, ready to greet Dean, and Sam couldn’t wait. He had good news to tell him, he’d got a date with the girl at school, Jess. Dean would be so proud. He stopped fidgeting, resting his head against the door and looking out to the rain. It hammered down, pooling at the sides of the road. Sam turned when his father swore, looking out just in time to see the deer. The car skidded, before there was a sound that Sam thought was like a gunshot. The car launched to the side, spinning. Tires squealed, Sam crying out for his dad, who was thrown against the window side._

_A snap was heard, then the car hit the tree, and a cracking sound was heard. Sam barely registered it, aware of the airbags that had deployed, and looked across to his father. Blood dribbled down the side of his head, his eyes open but glazed, his head twisted in a funny direction. Sam tried to wriggle out, tried to get to his dad, when the car door was opened._

_‘Please, you’ve got to help my dad!’ He insisted, and the man with slightly discoloured eyes smiled slightly._

_‘Come with me. We’ll look after you.’ Sam struggled, saw the tire that had burst, then saw the man behind the one grabbing him holding a gun. They’d shot the tire, he realised. Fighting desperately, a cloth came over his nose, and Sam couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t get any air in without breathing it in, and eventually his lungs burnt so much that he gave in. The last thing he saw was the burning car, his dad’s body still inside. Sam shut his eyes, nausea taking over._

**

‘Can you hear me? Six?’ His head hurt. He really did prefer being shot to this. His head was in someone’s lap, someone that smelled like Charlie. His mouth tasted less foul, so evidently someone had tried to get him to drink. He was still on the floor, he could tell that by the unfortunate ache growing in his back. His eyes flicked, but it was so much effort to open them, so he settled for tensing his hand.

‘Oh, thank God. Hey there.’ That was Charlie, the hand that reached for his and slipped inside his large palm. Six wondered what exactly had happened, one moment he’d been sitting watching the film… The car. He’d seen the car, seen Sam Winchester be taken from it. The car had been shot, John Winchester had had his neck snapped. His stomach threatened to spill again, but he held back on the sickness, finally forcing his eyes open.

Charlie’s head was above him, although everyone was pretty close. She smiled softly, tracing hair out of his face, pausing when she reached the electrical scar. So, Gabriel had told them. He didn’t blame the Novak, but he did wish she wouldn’t look at him like that. The electrocution was barely the worst thing that had happened.

‘We got your meds.’ Jo muttered, close to his side. Six forced his body to cooperate, noting someone had taken the trashcan. Presumptuous, to assume he wouldn’t hurl again. Shaky hands took the pot from Jo, who looked slightly concerned when he let more than the normal dose fall onto his palm.

‘Was it the car crash?’ Charlie inquired, shuffling across the floor so that she was facing him. Six studied her, he hadn’t yet had many memories, but that one had been clear enough.

‘Yeah. I’m fine.’ He added, standing up. His legs threatened to give in, so he clutched the wall tightly. Charlie, however, was a pretty persistent woman.

‘Did you see something?’ She asked as Six moved towards the kitchen, pouring a large glass of water. He downed it entirely, pressing fingers to his throbbing temple.

‘What happened?’ He asked instead, looking out of the window to the backyard. Not bothering to look back, knowing that all of them were listening, he waited for Charlie’s reply.

‘Well, after you decorated the trashcan, you kind of started fitting. It was really scary.’ She added, and Six wasn’t surprised. He’d seen this before.

‘It will stop in a couple of days.’ He supplied, taking a seat at the table and rubbing his face.

‘You know why it happened?’ She sounded surprised, and Six forced himself to remember that these people were normal, that they didn’t deal with what he did.

‘It’s a side-effect of a reversal of neural reprogramming, memories coming back undoes the electro-therapy. Causes my brain to haywire.’ He took another long drink, before opting for two more pills. Once taken, he stood slightly, still aware of the shake in his hands.

‘I’m going to shower.’ He stated, walking to the stairs.

**

The fucking Pizza man. Why had he not suspected anything? Six looked across to the tied up people, before he carefully walked into the room. He had a gun, but that wasn’t the best idea, not when there were four of them, and only one of him. They could get a shot on Dean before he got the opportunity.

‘Man, I thought you said the place was empty!’ A gun turned to point at him, the four men spinning. Six’s eyesight blurred slightly, probably to do with the killer headache.

‘Dude, he ain’t a threat. Looks like he’s half-dead.’ Six mentally agreed with them, counted the steps as the man walked across. His brain wasn’t really working very well, and he hoped Azazel got his message quickly. The man reached him, and Six moved. Flipping him over his shoulder, then pinning the body so when the second man fired it hit the first, Six threw the knife at the fourth. He dropped his gun, skidding across the floor to try and retrieve it. The third man came at Six with a baseball bat, which was unfortunate, because he was a lot slower to react than normal.

His hands were shaking pretty badly when he picked one of the guns up, the shot going wide. He swore, chucked the gun down and grabbed the second guy, reaching for muscle. When hands reached the man’s neck, Six was happy. He didn’t need eyesight to be able to snap someone’s neck. That was simple, the sound telling him he had achieved what he’d wanted. The third man that had got a hit with the baseball bat swung again, and Six dropped, sticking his leg out and watching the guy trip. The fourth lunged, abandoning the gun, and Six gripped his hair and slammed his head down into the coffee table. When the crack sounded, he did it a second time for safety.

The third man was now on his back, desperately shuffling away from Six, who watched with slight amusement. His hands were still shaking, which was annoying, and his head was starting to really hurt again, but he still managed to pick the gun up. He sighed, remembering that Azazel would probably want one for questioning, and picked the bat up instead. He took three long strides across the room, hit the man hard enough to knock out, not to do any permanent damage, and then looked to the tied up people.

**

They didn’t get the pizza. Six stayed curled up on one of the chairs, watching Agents move around the house, cleaning the mess Six had made. Azazel was explaining that they were getting closer to the Dark League, that they would soon have them exterminated, and they would be able to go home. Bobby finally spoke, said that they should have had better security. Azazel agreed, turning to Six.

‘Why did you let them order a takeaway?’ Six groaned, sitting forward slightly. Azazel looked at him, and Six was reminded of the car-crash, of the man that dragged him from his dead father.

‘Because I didn’t expect the pizza-boy to be a murderer?’ He asked, and knew he was in shit when Azazel stood. Dammit, he needed to sleep.

‘You look awful.’ He observed, and Six wasn’t surprised. He was pretty sure he was minutes away from passing out.

‘Thanks.’ He cheerily said, but there was too much sarcasm, too much hatred. Azazel looked at him slowly, then smiled.

‘You remembered the car crash, I presume. It’s the only reason I can think of for you being this… defensive.’ Six stood, feeling the need to punch the smug bastard in his face. He didn’t, instead stood right in front of him.

‘You killed my… John Winchester.’ He corrected, feeling the sting in his mind. Dean let out a sound, and Six felt sorry for him, but he didn’t back down.

‘That’s incorrect. One of my men shot the tire. I didn’t know he wouldn’t be able to control the car.’ Six tensed his fist, really wanting to hit him, but he didn’t. He backed down, looked away from him in defeat. This was ridiculous. Someone was trying to kill them all, and he was worried about something that happened twelve years ago.

‘I think you need to be recalibrated, Sam. What do you think?’ Six was so out of it that he didn’t notice the trap, didn’t notice that his real name had been used.

‘Screw you. I’m fine.’ Then he realised what Azazel had said, and blinked. Why he kept responding to that name when twelve years of being called Six seemed more natural was beyond him. The Agent behind Azazel said they were done, and Six stood tall.

‘You should stitch that up.’ His boss commented, looking to a nasty cut on Gabriel’s arm, then turned and left. Six sighed, then looked to Gabriel.

‘C’mon.’


	9. Foot Fetish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six gets more of his memories back

Six stalked across his room, shirtless, trying to figure out what Azazel was planning on doing. The reason he was shirtless was because he had just come out of the shower, and his wet hair was still dripping down his back. He shook his head, water droplets flying, then looked back to the wall. It was covered in articles and facts, things he had tried to patch together to figure out why Azazel had left him here.

If he thought logically, he could figure some things out. Asmodeus, former lead of the Dark League, knew something. He had told John Winchester, the two were acquainted, but he didn’t know when the first meeting had been. Now, Dean Winchester knew nothing. Considering Six didn’t remember a lot, he didn’t know if he did. He presumed he knew something, which was why Azazel had taken him. Which meant Azazel also knew what Asmodeus had told John.

The door to his room opened, Charlie poking her head round. Six beckoned her in, watching her eyes shift to the wall. He turned, reaching for a shirt, and heard her footsteps behind him. Fingers hesitantly touched the muscle of his back, tracing the edges of scars. If it was anyone bar Charlie, he would have snapped. Instead, he allowed his closest friend to run her fingers across the wounds.

‘You’ve got a lot.’ She remarked, tracing one on the side of his hip. He turned, staring at her expression. Shock, and guilt, and awe. He watched her fingers move across his stomach, trace the scar along his bellybutton. She finally pulled away, looking slightly embarrassed.

‘God, I’m sorry.’ She stated, cheeks flushing. Six shrugged, gripping a shirt and pulling it over his head.

‘Don’t be. We used to be close, and I’m kind of hoping it will go back to how it was before.’ Her eyes widened, a smile tugging at her lips. The rain outside, combined with how close they were standing, triggered another memory.

**

_‘C’mon, Sam!’ Charlie cried, wrapping her legs around his waist and looping her arms around his neck. The piggyback ride was awkward, considering how short Sam still was, but he tried to carry the two of them out into the rain. Charlie laughed, and Sam spun her round on his back, before they both fell over. Lying on their backs, staring up at the rain, Sam turned to her._

_‘I love you, Charles.’ He stated, and her grin grew. She offered out her pinkie finger, wrapping it around his._

_‘I love you too, Sammy. One day, when I get married to some pretty girl, you’re going to be my best man.’ She stated, and Sam beamed. He loved Charlie, ever since they met in preschool, and they’d been the best of friends ever since. Most people presumed them siblings, or stated that they would grow up to fall in love, but the truth was, they were each-others platonic love._

_‘You’ll be my best-man, Charles.’ The nickname made her burst into laughter, and they looked up to the rain._

_‘Sing for me, Sam.’ He looked amused, but they lay there anyway, singing to Bon Jovi’s You Give Love a Bad Name._

**

‘Hey, are you okay?’ Six blinked back the memory, then looked out to the rain. Charlie was looking at him, concern on his face, and he offered out his hand.

‘How do you feel about Bon Jovi and some rain?’ The grin broke out, and Six turned in time to catch her on his back, hands looping through her legs. She squealed, complaining about how he was a lot higher than he used to be, before Six took off through the house. Charlie screamed periodically, laughing loudly as they raced down corridors. They narrowly avoided running into Jody, skidding out of the way as Charlie called for Castiel to open the door.

He did so just in time, the duo running out, or Six doing the running, while Charlie held on tightly. The rain hammered down, soaking the two of them as Six ran around with the red-head on her back, until his foot slipped and they both went crashing down, laughing. Charlie rolled onto her back, and Six copied, remembering the memory.

‘Thank you, Sam.’ She stated, and Six took her hand in his, wrapping his pinkie finger around hers. They looked back up to the rain, Six closing his eyes.

‘No problem, Charles.’ She snorted, murmuring about how that nickname should have died, before Six stood up suddenly. He looked down with amusement, before he sung,

‘Shot through the heart, and you’re to blame.’ Charlie stood, lips forming the next words,

‘Darlin’ you gave love, a bad name.’

**

Six had his second shower of the day, before finding his way to Gabriel on the couch. The others were watching TV in the main living room, but the lone Novak was sitting in the upstairs room. Gabriel looked across when he walked in, and Six offered a beer. That put a smile on his face, the smaller man accepting, before they both sat down.

‘What’s up?’ Six asked him, and Gabriel looked across.

‘Apart from hearing my brother’s sex noises every night?’ Six snorted with laughter, having heard them as well, but he just pretended that it didn’t happen.

‘Apart from that.’ Six stated, and Gabriel shot him a killer smirk.

‘Hearing them at it in the shower.’ They both laughed, settling back onto the couch, staring at the rain. Six found himself suddenly wishing that he had always had this life, that he had never been taken from that car, that he had grown up with them.

‘He seems happy.’ Six stated, and they both knew he was talking about Dean. Six struggled to talk to him, the emerald eyes reminding him of the person that used to mean the world, and now he could no longer remember them. It made his heart bleed, made him want to curl up and cry, but these were all new feelings. He didn’t usually get this worried, didn’t get this worked up, but here he was, sitting on a couch deliberating over how he missed his old life.

‘What about you, Sammoose? Any love interests?’ The nickname made him smile, before Six actually felt pretty embarrassed. He could feel his face heating up, felt Gabriel’s stare, heard the intake of breath.

‘Samalam, don’t tell me that your very cute self is a virgin!’ Six sighed, burying his head into his hands. Gabriel burst out laughing, then hiccupped as he tried to stop the laughter, biting his lip. Six looked at him, the whiskey-eyes filling with tears as he tried to stop his entire body from shaking with laughter.

‘You done?’ Six inquired fondly, smirking as Gabriel eventually stopped. He still looked surprised, but he didn’t continue the inquisition. In fact, Gabriel adjusted his feet so they were back over Six’s lap, and he made light work of beginning to massage the bottoms of them.

‘You and Charlie looked like maniacs.’ Gabriel informed him, Six working his thumbs into the soles of Gabriel’s feet. The Novak groaned, tipping his head back and wiggling his feet happily. He sort of reminded Six of a cat, very expressive, but if you got too close, he usually scratched. Or demanded more attention.

‘It was quite fun.’ Six admitted, and Gabriel looked pleased. Six shifted his attention to the arches, and laughed slightly at the way Gabriel stretched out.

‘Guys, dinner is… woah. Foot fetish?’ Charlie asked, Gabriel wiggling his eyebrows playfully in Six’s direction. The Assassin just smiled, releasing Gabriel’s feet and standing up. Charlie was practically vibrating in the doorway, her lips moving like she wanted to say something.

‘Spit it out.’ Six stated, ignoring Gabriel muttering about how he would swallow. Charlie looked slightly ashamed, but spoke anyway.

‘I was wondering if maybe possibly you could tell us a story over dinner? About your work?’ Six blinked, honestly not expecting her to ask that. He was then slightly confused, why would any sane person want to hear about what Six did for a living? He was an Assassin, not a traveller. He saw sights, sure, but with the end result of killing someone.

‘I suppose. Isn’t it a little weird?’ Charlie shook her head vehemently, like she was possessed.

‘We want to know more about you. And it’s bad guys you kill.’ Six didn’t point out that sometimes he had to kill witnesses, figuring she wouldn’t be too happy if he started pointing out the technicalities. Instead, he nodded his head, walking towards the main room.


	10. Almost-Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six is happy. Then, of course, things go wrong

_Agent Six turned to his partner, Agent Twenty-Seven, and then looked back out at the wilderness. It was, in a weird way, beautiful. Norway was stunning at this time of year, a thick snow cover over it. They had been here for a week, sharing a room at a hotel that seemed like the luxury life that Six wished he had. Maybe, one day when he retired, he could afford to sleep on beautiful fur rugs and drink champagne every evening._

_‘Room service?’ Ro inquired, tilting her head in his direction. Six looked down at her, watching the woman kick of her shoes and lie back on the double bed. He’d been adamantly sleeping on the couch, despite her assuring him that it was alright._

_‘We have the party tonight.’ He reminded her, and she smirked. He had only been working with her for seven months, and this was a pretty important event. She looked to the dress hanging over the bathroom door, and offered a smile._

_‘Fancy showering with me?’ He rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the couch. She shrugged, stripping her clothes off on the walk. Looking over the case files, Six stayed still. It wasn’t a difficult case, not necessarily. But it would be fun._

_**_

_He walked through the doors, Ro on his arm. Her heels clicked, keeping her just shorter than him. The gown was a dark green, fur-lined, and it suited her. She looked amused, maybe it was the heels, or maybe it was the drink in her hand. Six didn’t have a preference for alcohol, beers would suit him fine, but tonight was a high-end event. The snow fell outside the ex-chapel, people gathering under the lights that lined the way._

_Sam led his “date” across to the balcony, looked out across the forest. It was dark, and tonight, it would be filled with the sound of sledding. He walked Aurora down to the edge of the woods, the sleigh being pulled by the huskies. Six climbed in first, followed by Agent Twenty-Seven. Others were climbing in different sleds, and slowly, they started to move._

_It was exhilarating. Six had done a lot, but racing through the forest was almost top of his list. Beside him, Aurora was standing up, fingers gripping the wood and hair loose, flying in the wind. The sky was dark, snow fluttering between branches. The huskies howled, tipping their heads back as they progressed. Six laughed happily, watching as they left the forest and entered the open plains, heading across the snow field._

_The other six sleds were close, and Six enjoyed the time. It was a perk of the job, seeing the northern lights race across the nights-sky as they hurtled across the ground, picking up speed as they moved._

**

‘I want to go!’ Charlie exclaimed, and Six chuckled. It was still one of his fondest memories, it had been incredible. The northern lights had been stunning, the sledding was by far the funniest thing he had ever thought he could do.

‘It was pretty good.’ He admitted, thinking back to how happy Twenty-seven had been. Charlie was grinning, having finished her dinner and now focused on Six’s story.

‘So, who did you kill?’ Six almost choked on his drink, staring at her like she was mad. When she didn’t take it back, he hesitantly continued.

‘A man called Alex Romandy.’ He took a swig of the beer, expecting her to be angry, or to have something to say about it. She did, just not what he expected.

‘What did he do?’ Technically, he shouldn’t tell her. It wasn’t allowed. She knew that as well, but he was being tested, he supposed.

‘Child trafficking across Northern Europe.’ He remembered the kill well, a shot straight through the head. It had been less satisfying than he thought.

‘Do you remember all of them?’ Of course he did. Six always remembered his kills.

‘Yeah.’ He admitted, finishing the beer. He was about to say something, maybe to try and explain that it wasn’t a sadistic streak, that he just wanted to ensure that everyone that he killed was remembered, but he didn’t get the chance to speak.

Because the house blew up.

**

Six lifted his head, the buzzing by far the worst. His ears rang, head spinning as he stood up. Rubble covered the floor, the smell of smoke overtaking his mind. He pushed himself to scan the surroundings, to take in the sight of the destroyed house. Then, he focused on the people. He heard vans pull up, saw men with guns, and realised he needed to move quickly. He grabbed the nearest two people, didn’t even look, just swung them up and ran. He reached the forest line, dropping the two bodies.

Going back, he could see the devastation. Willow House was falling down, now a broken structure. Flames rose, and he could see the men with guns scouring the wreckage. He crept through, received the case that had been on the top floor, but was now at the very bottom. With the case in hand, he spotted another body, moved forwards to grip the arm. He hooked it over his shoulder, the weight considerably more than the others individually. He stalked across the ground, silently making it back to the other two.

In the dark light, he could now see who he had retrieved. Gabriel, face slightly bruised and his lip cut, as well as some possible cuts under the clothing. Jo, who looked pretty awful. And finally, his last one, Castiel. The three were all unconscious, and Six needed to get them out quickly. He gripped the first two, put them over his shoulder, then bridal scooped Joanne.

The Dark League, presuming that was who they were, had Dean. They had his… brother. They had Bobby, Ellen, Jody, Dean and Charlie. He needed to get them all. Azazel wasn’t here, his two Assassins hadn’t done anything, and now he needed help. And somewhere to put three unconscious people. Sighing, he scooped up the case as well, making slow progress through the woods. The last thing he needed was to run into whoever had blown the house up. In fact, he could do with staying out of the way.

Once these three were safe, and out of the way, he would kill anyone who stood between him and the rest of the family that forgave him for what he had become. He flipped his phone out, saw the message that Azazel had left telling him that if he was still alive, he needed to get as far away as possible. He needed to protect the three people that he had pulled out, and then the Academy of Shadows could protect them while he went to help Azazel. That was the plan, anyway. When did Six’s life go to plan?


	11. Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six protects people. Has a moment with Gabriel. Then does some more sacrificing

Six looked at the three people in the beds, then to the woman he thought was dead. Aurora shot him a grin, then gestured to the bodies. Six nodded his head, moving to Joanne first. He was careful, stripping down the mucky clothes and looking for injuries. Bruises that would need bandaging, but nothing in need of dire attention. He turned to Ro, asked her to clean Jo so that he could look at the others. He turned to Castiel, did the same as he had before, and stripped him down. For modesty, he left them in underwear.

As an Assassin, it didn’t bother him. Castiel was in a similar situation to Jo, bruises and a potential sprained wrist from the way his unconscious body flinched when he touched it. He moved across to Gabriel, leaving Ro to clean Castiel. Gabriel had a pretty nasty cut on his arm, which Six set to work on. By the time he was finished, he moved across to Jo and started wrapping her up. Bandages on the points where they would need support, then he dressed her in some of Aurora’s clothing.

Castiel was slightly harder to dress, but Six got him into some clothes he’d picked up from the thrift shop. Once he was dressed, he turned back to Gabriel. The cut that he had stitched was bandaged, before Six stared down at the unconscious man.

‘I see it’s more than friendship.’ Aurora commented, and Six didn’t say anything. He dressed Gabriel, then wrapped the blankets up around him. Before he could tell Aurora that she was being ridiculous, Jo made a coughing sound. Six was by her side instantly, the girl’s eyes widening as she sat up.

‘Easy, Jo. You’ll be sore for a couple of days.’ She kept her fingers holding his shoulders as she looked to the other two, then back to him. Six explained what happened, looked awkward when she started crying at the mention of her Mother, then held her as she buried her face into his chest. He then introduced her to Aurora, and Jo looked confused.

‘Trust me, I thought she was dead as well.’ Six commented, staring to the woman that had replied to his SOS call. She smiled softly, turned her attention to the waking Castiel. Six helped Jo drink, take some painkillers, and eat a small amount before he went across to Castiel and repeated the process. Cas, of course, was worried about Dean. So was Six. But he didn’t show it, just helped the Novak eat, before looking to Gabriel.

‘I’ll wait till he’s awake, then we’re going.’ He looked to Aurora, who he had discussed the plan with. Obviously, she disagreed with him, but he knew that Azazel wouldn’t let Six be taken by the Dark League. In fact, he was basically betting on that fact.

**

Gabriel was the hardest to convince. It went pretty well, telling them that he was just going to walk into the place they had taken them, explain that Six knew the secret, not Dean, then have them released. The Dark League were so desperate for the secret, that they wouldn’t care about releasing those prisoners if they thought that Six knew the answer. He did. It had taken a while, but he had pieced together the story, and he was now sure that he could get Dean back.

The others left the room when Six asked, leaving Gabriel to shout at Six about how he was being stupid, that walking in was a really bad idea, that he would get killed. Eventually, Six stepped forwards. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, but he had a pretty good idea. One hand moved to the back of Gabriel’s head, holding him gently, the other went to his cheek. When he pressed his lips to the shorter man’s, the ranting stopped. Gabriel gripped hold of the jacket he was wearing, tugging him closer. Six eventually pulled back, pressing their foreheads together.

‘I’ll come back, I promise.’ He assured him, and Gabriel looked right at him, whiskey-eyes glaring.

‘You better.’ He snapped, and Six smiled. He pecked his lips once, then stood tall. The look that was shared, well, Six knew this was staying hidden for the time being. He was okay with that.

‘I’ll see you around.’ Six said lamely, walking across to the door. Gabriel sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and nodded.

‘Be safe.’ Six gave a lopsided smile, slipping out of the door. Time to bargain with terrorists.

**

When Six walked into the room, Ro walking by his side, there were probably twenty guns pointed in his direction. The moment he saw his brother tied up, but unharmed, the weight sitting on his chest released so suddenly that he thought he might topple. He looked right into the emerald eyes he had forgotten for so long, and wondered why he had ever forgotten Dean. It hit him like a freight train, a mixture of emotions, but mostly love.

A memory of Dean riding a bike, Sam sitting on the handlebars. A memory of the two of them on the fourth of July, stolen fireworks lighting up the sky. Ice-cream after school on Fridays. Sitting in Bobby’s house, watching crappy movies. Watching Dean, at fifteen, realise that he could pretty much date any woman he wanted.

His eyes moved across to the others, checking each one was well, before he looked to the man standing at the front. Tall, but ultimately not that much of a threat.

‘Ramiel.’ Six greeted, stepping away from Aurora. The plan was quite simple, and she would follow it, even though she didn’t agree.

‘Agent Six. I must say, I am slightly confused.’ Of course he was, he hadn’t figured it out. Six smiled slightly, gesturing to the chained up people.

‘I’m sure you’ve figured out that Dean Winchester doesn’t know. I ask that you release all of them to my companion here,’ He gestured vaguely to Aurora, ‘and then I’ll give you someone who does know.’ Ramiel paused, you could see the cogs turning in his mind as he tried to figure out what he had just said.

‘Nobody else would know.’ He finally stated, but it sounded more like a question, and Six chuckled.

‘Only a Winchester could know.’ Six conceded, and Ramiel looked triumphant for a moment, before Six smirked.

‘But then again, Dean isn’t the only Winchester.’ Ramiel got it. Slowly, you could see it dawn, and his eyes widened. Then, a dangerous smirk grew on his face.

‘Sam Winchester.’ He stated, looking Six up and down.

‘The one and only.’ Sam admitted, stepping forwards. Ramiel looked past him to the Guards, then nodded. Sam didn’t turn, heard his friends being unchained, heard Aurora walking across to Dean. She had the piece of paper in her hand, the one that would be passed across to Sam’s brother. The Winchester waited until they were unchained, and Ramiel looked at him expectantly.

‘They’re going to walk away, and once they are safe, my companion will call me. Once that has happened, we can proceed.’ Sam stated, and the man nodded.

Sam watched them walk out, knew that his brother would open the paper once he was outside of the room. The Assassin smiled slightly, looking up to Ramiel.

**I remember**


End file.
